A New Road
by EvenstarRoses
Summary: Annalee has always been strong and quick on her feet, nothing could change that, not even a life altering injury. When she defended the hobbits alongside Aragorn at Weathertop she knew her place was with the fellowship yet she never anticipated the return of her past or any kind of love. Tenth Walker. R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**So I know the tenth walker story is a bit cliche' and there are hundreds of them but I've always wanted to write one so give it a shot. Out of all those other hundreds of tenth walkers thanks for clicking mine! Let me know what you think! :) *Disclaimer, I do not own Lord of the Rings***

Watchful eyes fixed upon the door to the tavern swaying this way and that. Aragorn sat across from the young girl hidden beneath her cloak, puffing smoke from his long, smooth pipe, deep in his thoughts.

The girl seated across from him glanced around the dimly lit inn, hazy with smoke from the fire lit ovens cooking furiously in the back kitchens. Men of the town and travelers of far off lands all gathered under one roof to enjoy a night of laughter and drunken idiocy of which they deemed fun. A man stumbled past the travelers, leaning on another laughing, his speech slurred with a grin plastered on his face.

Each night for the past three days they had occupied the same table, a point where all corners of the tavern could be viewed without drawing attention, watching and waiting.

Annalee touched the weathered piece of parchment in her pocket, the paper now brittle from being read numerous times. The letter was left at the Pony for them and Annalee had the curved script of the wizard's hand burned into her memory.

_My dear friends,_

_ I'm afraid something has occurred, something I did not anticipate. There are two hobbits en route to Bree, to this inn. Frodo and Sam are their names, one will hold something of great value, the other is…very protective of his dear friend to say the least. You must meet them in my stead for I must make all haste to Isengard. Something of the past has returned as I feared it would, you know of what I speak but I daren't write it. I'm sorry I cannot reveal more, all in due time. _

_Until we meet again._

As brief as it was Annalee could sense the wizard's unease and anxiety through his rushed script and she knew if his suspicions proved true this was a very serious matter indeed.

**Three days ago**

Aragorn held the door open for Annalee. She thanked him and passed through the entryway, the sign of the inn rocking in the breeze above it. They stood patiently before the front desk allowing the innkeeper to finish his booking on the shelves behind him. He pushed a registry into place and when he turned around he jumped, startled by the silent figures.

"Strider!" he exclaimed, a sudden fear crept into his speech, "What can I do for you?" he asked avoiding eye contact.

"A room please," the fatigued ranger replied.

"Yes, yes," muttered the innkeeper reaching under his desk for the keys, "Here you are," he dropped the key into his outstretched palm.

In return Aragorn dropped a small bag of coins on the countertop, "Thank you."

Annalee nodded her thanks and followed him through the inactive afternoon bar scene to their room in the far reaches of the Prancing Pony.

"I'll take the floor," Aragorn said dropping his age worn pack on the floor.

Annalee clucked her tongue as the door shut behind her, "I'm not a princess you know, you can sleep on the bed. I'll take the ground."

He cast a look at her direction that showed he wouldn't budge in this argument. She raised her hands in mock defeat, "Alright but when you're complaining of a back ache don't say I didn't try."

They slept for most of that day until their hunger woke them. Looking for something more than the bread they'd been eating for the past week the two weary travelers trudged down to the bar for a warm meal.

Aragorn and Annalee scarfed down their plates of tough meats and vegetables hardly having enough time to taste it. They wanted to finish before the masses arrived for 'drinks all around!'

She rubbed her eyes as they ascended the staircase back to their room, the purple rings below them prominent against her pale features. Drowsily she unlocked the door. Stepping in an icy chill from the open window crawled over her skin making her shudder.

"Did you leave that open?" she inquired as she shut it. Forcing the lock down she turned to an unresponsive Aragorn, his brow furrowed as he read over what looked like a letter.

She crossed the room to where he was, "What's that?"

"A letter," he passed it to her, "from Gandalf."

**Present**

It seemed an odd place to meet them, the hobbits; she felt the presence of so many men could frighten them off, especially these drunkards. Men around here were ill about their wits and thoughtless, and that was when they were sober. She watched for the hobbits nonetheless. The large creaky door continued to swing open on its rusted hinges a countless number of times yet it was never their quarry.

"Aragorn?" she asked softly, interrupting his thoughts. She leaned forward keeping her voice at a low, the old wooden chair groaned beneath her shifting weight.

"Hmm?" he mumbled through the bit still between his lips.

"Hobbits aren't exactly travelers. How do we know they're even-"

He slid the pipe from his lips, "I'm sure they are fine. Gandalf seemed certain they'd be here, why he couldn't meet them himself I have yet to know but his message…these hobbits are important," he glanced at his companion knowing he wasn't exactly putting her mind at ease, "This is the most suitable place for hobbits in Bree and if I were caught in the storm out there, I'd seek shelter. Give them time," the pipe slid back into place between his lips.

000000

Aragorn observed his companion whose eyelids had drooped shut from lack of sleep, breathing softly in her light slumber. He laughed quietly to himself knowing she'd be angry with him for not waking her immediately but he let her sleep anyway. The concern for his friend was etched in the lines of his face. He had tried to keep her in Rivendell but she had always been stubborn. Only three weeks of recovery and she insisted on going with him to help at the trading town, pleading her case swearing it'd be good for her while she was on the mend.

He admired her strength although he saw she had yet to fully recover it. Every so often she'd fall behind, discreetly trying to hide it from him but he knew. The ranger knew her too well and picked up on it immediately.

Four sets of feet shuffled through the front entrance, the gait different from a man's. Aragorn's head snapped in the direction of the unfamiliar tread where he was greeted by the sight of four hobbits, two more than expected. They stood just inside the door, shivering and dripping water from the heavy downpour that raged outside.

His eyes followed their every move, studying their habits. The innkeeper had them seated shortly, several tables away from where he and Annalee had been anxiously awaiting their arrival.

Annalee stirred and her eyelids fluttered open. When she drew connections and remembered where she was all her senses seemed to awake at once, she glanced in the direction Aragorn's pale eyes were fixed. Noticing the four hobbits she shot a look at Aragorn, "You didn't wake me?" she whispered harshly.

He chuckled at the reaction he had been expecting, "You just looked so peaceful. I didn't want to disturb you," Though he jested, he wanted her to sleep, even if only a few winks. The corners of her lips turned upwards into a slight smile and a short laugh escaped her lips. Aragorn had always had a way of getting to her through his lighthearted wit.

The night dragged on yet that did not lessen the amount of activity going on within the tavern. Drinks would continue to pour until the night hours came to an end, the dawn reminding the men they had work to do.

Annalee studied the hobbits, how they spoke, how they moved. It was a curious sight, for in all her years she had only ever had one interaction with hobbits. From lore she knew them to be a whole hearted people who enjoyed festivities and the comforts of home. Her prior knowledge in mind, one of the hobbits stuck out from the others. While the other three were on their second and third plates of food, he had yet to get through his first. He slumped over his plate pushing the food around with a fork. A troubled look hung upon his face, something weighed heavily on him, perhaps the object the wizard mentioned in his letter. Though Gandalf had allusively dismissed the object in question she and Aragorn shared the same suspicion, the one ring had returned.

Several times she was sure she had caught Frodo stealing a look at her and Aragorn. When the innkeeper made his rounds the dark haired halfling tugged at his apron. Barliman leaned down to hear him better, "What can I do for you Little Master?"

"Those two over there," he said with a subtle gesture in her direction, "Who are they?"

Barliman spoke warily, "That man, he's one of them rangers, known around here as Strider-"

At the mention of Aragorn, her sharp ears locked in on their conversation.

"-and the woman, she's always with him, keeping to herself but always watching," his voice trembled and he swallowed, "They're dangerous folk," ending his story he hurried on to complete his rounds.

Annalee snickered softly to herself.

"What is it? What did you hear?" Aragorn asked knowing she had heard the entire conversation. Though his ear was well trained, it didn't compare to the elven senses Annalee possessed.

She recapped Barliman's take on the two travelers. Aragorn scoffed in response, "Dangerous folk."

They waited patiently as the hobbits finished their supper. One of their company hopped to the bar to order another round before they set off to bed. The men sitting at the high counter, having few dealings with hobbits, poked and prod at him, asking him questions and laughing at his child like demeanor.

The others, growing impatient awaiting their ales sent Frodo to fetch him. Approaching the bar he reached up to get his friend's attention only to be greeted by a good shove causing him to fall back. In the seconds he was falling there was a flash of gold and he vanished, all before making contact with the ground. A chorus of gasps and shouts, followed by a round of cheering and applause sounded from onlookers who credited the disappearance to be some sort of parlor trick.

Annalee didn't wait to see Aragorn's reaction. She was already on her feet and pushing through the throngs of people toward the spot he disappeared. Her heart raced from nerves or excitement she didn't but what she did know was that the one ring had indeed returned and somehow it had fallen into the hands of a hobbit. On the edge of her sight she saw a small figure appear in the corridor. She caught Aragorn's eye from across the room and gestured to the hall with a twitch of her neck.

He stole out of the bar behind the onlookers who still awaited the Frodo's reappearance. Annalee scanned the crowded tavern to make sure no one followed him before pushing through the people.

She squeezed between people and practically fell into the doorway. A large hand grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet, "Watch yourself boy!" Annalee spun around to see who held her, her hood falling back as she did so. He had at least a foot on her and a girth three times her size, a rather unattractive brute.

"I'm no boy!" She retorted. The grip on her arm tightened in response, "I can see that now." He grinned a rather twisted smile. Annalee scrunched her nose in disgust. His breath reeked of alcohol and pipe tobacco. He pressed her against the wall and leaned down close to her ear, "Why don't you come with me for a bit of fun?" He suggested before kissing her neck.

Annalee rolled her eyes. _Pig, _she thought. _Guess there's only one way out of this._ She giggled from beneath him which she knew would please him.

"Oh, you like that?" the man said with another kiss.

Annalee turned her face so she could look at him, "You know what I _really _want to do?" She smiled flirtatiously for a bit of effect.

He shook his head and smiled, "Tell me."

"I'd rather show you."

The man's brow raised in anticipation. Annalee smirked and brought her knee up swift and hard right between the man's legs. He howled in pain as his body hit the ground. People had turned toward the noise. Annalee simply shrugged, "He slipped, he'll be fine!" She knelt down next to the man and pouted, "You said you wanted fun. That was fun for me at least." She laughed and left to find Aragorn.

Looking over shoulder and scanning the otherwise empty corridor she knocked twice on the door before entering, "It's me," she informed as she came in, not wanting to catch a knife in her gut. She turned the knob so it shut silently behind her.

Frodo was on the floor. He looked from her to Aragorn,"Who are you? What do you want?" he attempted to speak boldly but Annalee could detect the fear in his voice.

"A little more caution from you," scolded Aragorn, "That is no mere trinket you carry." Then he looked at Annalee with a confused stare, "What happened to you?"

Annalee adjusted her cloak as to hide the purple rings from the man's horrid kisses, "I had a little run in with one of the townspeople. He'll be fine, I only hurt his pride."

Aragorn half smiled and shook his head before returning his attention to Frodo who looked even more befuddled than before. He stood and straightened his waistcoat, "I assure you I carry nothing."

Aragorn arched an eyebrow and cast a brief look at Annalee, "Certainly," he said fixating once more on the hobbit. "I can stay hidden if I like," he snuffed several candles with his fingertips, "but to disappear entirely, now that is a rare gift."

"Do you understand the danger of what you have in your possession?" furthered Annalee.

Frodo looked to her and shook his head, "I was warned not to put it on," he paused; baffled as he tried to make sense of what was happening, "Is that because it makes the one who wears it disappear?"

Annalee closed her eyes, frustrated by his ignorance, and sighed, "No," she locked in on Frodo, "It so much more than that. How did that ring come into your position, Mr. Underhill?" she asked recalling the name he gave the innkeeper.

He hesitated and looked at Aragorn who only waved his hand, a gesture saying, "Go on and answer her." He swallowed and felt the ring in his pocket, "My Uncle Bilbo gave it to me."

"Bilbo!" Annalee exclaimed, "Bilbo Baggins?" The hobbit nodded slightly. She laughed in disbelief, "Bilbo Baggins is your uncle?" No wonder he had checked in under a false name. That was a wise move on his part. The one ring had gone to become an heirloom to a line of hobbits, it was unbelievable.

The door suddenly swung open. Annalee was glad she had quick reflexes having just barely cleared the door she almost didn't have time to draw her sword. The other three hobbits stood in the hall, holding household objects up in the air to defend themselves.

"Let him go!" one shouted holding up closed fists.

"You must be Sam," Annalee assumed recalling Gandalf's words. She sheathed her weapon and ushered them in toward the center of the room along with Frodo.

"You cannot wait for the wizard," Aragorn said rejoining the conversation when the door was once again shut, "They are coming."

Annalee stepped into the fire's glow now fully visible to them, "You needn't fear us; we are friends of Gandalf."

"How do we know?" opposed Sam.

"Sam," scolded Frodo quietly, having realized they were less of a threat than he had initially thought.

She removed the letter from her pocket and held it out to him. His short hand snatched the paper from her own. Once he finished reading it he proceeded to crumple it in his hand, "It isn't even signed! How do we know you didn't write this yourself? How are we supposed to know we can trust you?"

"You don't," she replied curtly, "but you and I both know what's out there. Aragorn and I are well trained and can protect you from what hunts you. You are free to leave if you wish," she said sidestepping out of the way of the door, "We won't hold you captive but we can and will protect you by any means should you choose to stay."

"Alright then," said Sam proudly, "Come on lads," he started toward the door followed by the two he had arrived with.

"Mr. Frodo?" he questioned once he realized his master wasn't following.

Frodo glanced at Annalee then Aragorn and finally settled his gaze on Sam, "I think we should trust them but," he turned to Annalee, he had quickly grown to like her, "Tell me who you are. How did you find us?"

"My name is Annalee and this is Aragorn, or Strider as the barkeep told you. On our return journey from a nearby trading town we received a letter from Gandalf, that one," she said pointing to the ball in Sam's fist, "telling us to find you here and protect you by any means necessary."

After what felt like several hours of tedious interrogation the hobbits gave in to sleep and were all curled up in the one bed snoring, all save Frodo who lay on his side staring at the wall. Aragorn had gone down to the kitchen to pay off the staff for extra food for their journey back to Rivendell.

"Can you not sleep Frodo?" she asked noticing he was awake.

He sat up, "This whole ordeal, it doesn't feel real, like it's a dream."

Annalee understood his feelings; she had felt the same thing when she first saw it slip onto his finger, "It will all take care of itself in due time," she said attempting to assuage his worries.

He was silent for a few moments before he spoke again, "Earlier when you mentioned Bilbo, did you know him?"

Annalee nodded, "I met him once, long ago."

"When?" The fabled inquisitiveness of hobbits she'd heard about was making itself known through the young ring bearer.

"It's a rather uninteresting tale," she explained but by the curious glint in his eye she realized he didn't care. "Alright fine, when I was no more than a teenager I was _always_ under constant watch by my mother and her nursemaids but I never wanted to stay at home learning to be a proper woman, that kind of thing bored me. I had a desire for adventure and excitement," she paused in her story, "I suppose your uncle told you all of his adventures with the dwarves and the Lonely Mountain?" he nodded so she continued; "I desperately wanted to see it in all its restored glory so I ventured off into the world on my own. Shortly I found myself in the hands of a bandit who had snatched me in the woods. Your uncle, small as he was climbed a tree and tackled him to the ground. The poor thief was so confused as to what hit him he dropped me and ran. It was the first time I'd ever seen a hobbit and well, I was terrified."

Frodo burst out in a fit of laughter making Sam stir beside him. He lowered his voice when his fits died down, "Terrified! Of a hobbit?"

"In my defense he could've been another bandit. For the longest time I thought your race was what children's stories were made of," her voice trailed off as she recollected the rest of the story, "your uncle was on his own return journey home and I knew he was exhausted. He could've just as easily left me there in the woods but he led me back through miles of forest until the borders of Dale."

Frodo smiled, "He never told me that."

Annalee exhaled softly, "I wouldn't think so. He probably doesn't even remember it." she clapped her hands together, "Alright, you should get some sleep. We have a long day travel ahead of us."

He rolled over and did just that. How he had instantly fallen asleep she didn't know, probably another hobbit trait she was unaware of.

**So what do you think of Annalee? Did that man get what he deserved? Until next time!**


	2. Chapter 2

Annalee swatted the hand that shook her shoulder. "Get a move on, Annalee. It's almost dawn," warned Aragorn.

Blinking the sleep away, she stood and picked up Aragorn's pack. As she slipped out the door, he tossed her their canteens, "I'll meet you at the gates."

The previous night's wall-to-wall packed tavern was now empty, save a few stragglers, unconscious, unable to handle their ale. She had hoped to see the man from the previous night still curled up in the floor like a dying spider but much to her disappointment he was gone.

In the marketplace, Annalee gathered the few provisions required for the seven day journey to Rivendell and, for a few coins, she acquired a pony upon the hobbits' request, of course. The pony, Bill, was slightly malnourished but strong on his legs; he was the best she could find at such an early hour.

The air hung heavily with moisture from the storm, patches of sunlight streaming through breaks in the clouds. Annalee's boots sunk deep into the mud as she hurried to the gates. Just outside the wooden perimeter they waited for her arrival. She distributed the supplies among the others, all save Sam, who had come fully prepared. Pots and pans hung from his overly stuffed pack, ready for adventure.

Aragorn glanced over his shoulder once more before leading them away from Bree, through the fields and plantations until they were well into the wild, on a path known only by a few.

"Where are you taking us exactly?" asked Pippin, Frodo's cousin.

"To Rivendell, to the house of Elrond." Aragorn replied from his leading position.

Suddenly Sam's eyes lit up, "Did you hear that Mr. Frodo?" he exclaimed softly, "We're going to see the elves!"

Frodo glanced toward Annalee at the mention of elves. He had guessed she was of elvish descent from her story; if she had met Bilbo upon his return from Erebor, then she had to be as old as him. Sam hadn't yet realized she was an elf. Her plaited hair hid the pointed tips of her ears, which were really the only trait proving her to be one.

They had made excellent time; by the stars dotting the orange skyline, Annalee guessed it to be nearing seven o' clock. Aragorn planned to make camp in the ruins of an ancient watchtower, Amon Sul. It stood just over the Weather Hills, nestled between the rolling landscapes of the far Shire and borderlines of Bree's forests. Annalee remembered when it was built, how excited the bordering cities and towns were to have such a base to protect them, and now it was reduced to no more than a pile of rubble.

"Do you remember it?" Aragorn asked, nostalgia dripping from his voice as he gazed into the distance toward the summit.

"In all its glory," whispered Annalee.

0000000

The moon had chased away the sun by the time they reached Weathertop's peak. Aragorn had gone ahead to scout, leaving Annalee with the hobbits.

Upon his return he gave her instruction, "There's an inlet on the West side. Take cover there as far back as you can manage and keep the light low," he cautioned. "I'll be back shortly."

Annalee grabbed his arm, "Where are you going?"

He leaned in toward her, his breath hot on her neck, "Something hides in the trees, I can feel it," he pulled away, "Keep them safe."

She watched him disappear over the edge; soon she could only make out the soft outline of his body until he vanished from sight, blending into the many shades of night.

Annalee turned back to the hobbits all huddled together beside Bill, exhausted from their first day of travel. She clucked her tongue, "Come here now, Bill." The horse slowly trudged over to her. She praised him with a pat on the nose and removed a cloth bound parcel from his saddlebag.

Curious by nature, the hobbits had all gathered around her. Annalee knelt on the ground and unrolled the package, revealing four hobbit sized swords, which in reality were only daggers for men.

"These are for you," she passed each a blade. "Keep them close."

Every look from bewilderment to fear to fascination crossed their bright faces as they admired the gifted blades. Annalee didn't have to guess they had no experience in swordplay. She pulled out her own sword, the metal scraping against the sheath. "It's quite simple once you get the hang of it," she said with a few swings at the air.

The four stared at her with a new wonder in their eyes. "Would you show us?" asked Merry.

She turned and skimmed the surrounding area below for Aragorn and with no sign of the ranger she figured should anything happen and he not be there to help, they would need minimal training at the least.

The four halflings picked up on basic technique relatively quickly. Annalee dodged a thrust from Pippin and deflected a blow from Merry. who had been trying to creep up behind her. "How'd you know I was behind you?" questioned Merry, panting heavily.

She laughed lightly, "I've been doing this for many, many years, Master Meriadoc. Aragorn taught me how to listen for different treads, to pick up on the slightest of sounds." Suddenly she whirled around and met Sam's raised blade.

Stunned by her reflex he fell back on to his bottom, dropping his sword to the ground with a clatter of metal against rock. She sheathed her sword and smiled as she offered a hand to him. His cheeks flushed red, he accepted her outstretched hand. "I thought I was being stealthy," he mumbled under his breath as he rejoined Frodo and the others.

"I think that's enough for tonight," advised Annalee. "You gents should get some rest."

The four, exhausted from their long day of adventure, laid out their bed rolls, nestled together in the far end of the inlet where within minutes their snores drifted along the air. Aside from that, the night was silent.

000000

Annalee perched upon a boulder overlooking the surrounding land, her keen eyes constantly on the lookout for predators skulking in the trees. Aragorn had yet to return, but she wasn't worried as he always found his way back to her, safe and sound.

Hours passed, by the moon's position she guessed it to be nearing two o' clock in the morning. To keep from falling asleep, she paced across what used to be the outer wall of the watchtower, almost in the exact manner the guards in the years of old would patrol.

As she completed an about face in her continuous attempts to ward of sleep in the corner of her eye she swore a shadow crossed the grounds below. She stopped mid-stride and grasped the hilt of her sword. Holding her breath, afraid to make a sound, she peered down over the edge.

"Estel?" she called cautiously.

The shadow dashed for cover behind a cluster of large rocks. It was bigger than a man; its movements grotesque and ghostlike. A screech shattered the delicate silence of night- wraiths!

"Up! Get up!" she shouted as she sprinted to hobbits. "Leave everything behind! Up to the top, go!" she commanded.

Without question, they scrambled up the crumbling staircase, swords shaking in their trembling hands.

Judging by their gait, Annalee didn't have to look back to know four of the nine wraiths were trailing not far behind them. She backed the hobbits into a corner and stood before them, forming a protective barrier between them and the Nazgul. The wraiths arrived and stood still on the cliff's edge. "Give him to us," one hissed.

Annalee clutched her blade, "You will not harm them!"

They responded with bloodcurdling shrieks of anger, charging toward her with arms raised high. She met their swords with her own. Pushing her sword against another's, she managed to disarm and chase one off. Without hesitation she faced the others, taunting and provoking them, anything to distract them from the hobbits.

A faint glow of red reflected in the lifted swords, crossed in air, and suddenly Aragorn sprung from the shadows, wielding his sword along with a bright torch. The black creatures recoiled from the threat of flame, giving Annalee the opportunity to drive another off.

As Aragorn fought another, Annalee caught one encroaching upon the hobbits as they quaked in fear. "You don't want them!" she called; her chest heaved yet she stood strong, the wraiths attention snapping to her. "Your fight is with me!"

One of the hooded creatures shrieked and quickly advanced on her. There was something different about him, but Annalee had little time for investigation before their fight began. His strength was greater than she anticipated, and her own was beginning to waver. With all her might she could muster, she pushed the wraith's sword closer and closer to his body, until he unexpectedly pushed back and knocked the sword from her hand.

Annalee's heartbeat had skyrocketed; the wraith grasped her neck in his gloved hand. With ease he hurled her through the air into the rock face. A white hot pain seared across her chest as, through double vision, she watched a wraith plunge his sword into...nothing?

She shook the daze from her head and picked up a discarded torch, "Hey!" she called. When he turned, she let the torch fly directly into his faceless hood, engulfing it in flame. Shrieking and screaming the figure flew over the edge of the stone structure.

Cries of pain brought her attention from the wraith to Frodo who had reappeared from thin air, writhing in pain. How could he have been so foolish to have put the ring on in their presence? Knowing Aragorn could ward of the remaining wraiths, she rushed to the young hobbit's aid. Sam was already at his side holding his hand, Merry and Pippin close by. Annalee stooped down to his level to determine the severity of his wound.

Panic seized her as she found crimson blood spreading across the fabric of his shirt. Finding the hole in the cloth, she tore it open to uncover the stab wound, deep and bleeding with dark veins, poisoned from the Morgul blade. He would soon fade if proper care was not delivered; scooping him into her arms, she stood but immediately fell back to the stone-cold ground.

"Miss Annalee?" asked Sam.

Annalee rolled onto her side and pressed a hand to her chest feeling hot, sticky blood. Looking down she noticed the tender skin of her scar had split in several places, and she was losing blood at an alarming rate. There wasn't any significant amount of pain, and she could bear it so she dismissed it, hiding it beneath the thick fabrics of her cloak.

"I only slipped," she lied so she wouldn't give them more reason to worry. Taking a slower approach, she scooped Frodo into her arms.

When Aragorn chased off the last wraith he rushed toward the others, "What happened?" he inquired taking in the sight of Frodo's injury.

"He was stabbed by a morgul blade," informed Annalee, "He needs elvish medicine."

Aragorn ran a hand through his sweat-drenched hair, grasping the severity, "We must get him to your uncle."

Annalee lowered her voice to a whisper, "We're six days from Rivendell. He'll never make it."

He took Frodo from her arms and heaved him onto one shoulder, "We have to try."

They flew down the deteriorated ruins and into the wilderness. At this point, the adrenaline was starting to wear down and pain began to spread across Annalee's chest. Getting a breath soon became difficult, and she was glad she had taken the rear as she was falling behind. Blood pounded in her ears, and she could feel her heart skipping beats but she never lost sight of the others.

After what felt like miles, Aragorn came to an abrupt halt, lying Frodo down on a patch of clover. He was hyperventilating and gasping for air, each breath a struggle.

"Can't you do anything for him?" begged Sam.

Aragorn looked at Annalee who was at just as big a loss when suddenly his face brightened. "Do you remember the Athelas plant?" he asked.

She nodded recalling the lessons he taught her in herbal treatment, "It'll help slow the poison."

He nodded, "Stay with Frodo," he then turned to the others, "Come with me, it'll be an easier find with more eyes."

After they had all disappeared from sight, Annalee collapsed onto the soft earth beside Frodo. She released all she had been hiding, her breaths came out ragged and shallow, her lungs screaming. The blood was soaking through her cloak, and if Aragorn were to look at her for more than a second he'd notice. Angrily, she groaned and hit her fist against the ground.

She sighed, "I'm so sorry Frodo," as she touched his cheek and brushed the hair off his sweating brow. "I'm sorry I failed you, just hold on."

A rustling in the brush drew her attention from him. On reflex she drew a dagger from her belt should it be a threat. Luckily it was only Aragorn followed by the other three hobbits.

She lowered and sheathed the knife, "Estel, he's fading. Did you find the Athelas?"

"A little more than that," he said as he crouched beside Frodo.

Annalee didn't understand until another emerged from the woods behind the hobbits, an elf maiden.

"Arwen!" she stood and greeted her cousin, who smiled in return. "What are you doing out here?"

"I've been searching for you for two days. My father foresaw the wraiths, and I couldn't sit back and do nothing now, could I?" A glint of mischief shone in her bright eyes.

Annalee dismissed the surprise of her cousin's arrival. "Arwen, he's fading," she said as they moved to the opposite side of Frodo so they wouldn't interfere with Aragorn's treatment.

"He needs my father's care," she said on closer inspection.

"That was our goal," Aragorn stated as he popped the weeds into his mouth. After several moments of chewing he removed it and pressed it into Frodo's wounded shoulder, earning a round of whimpering cries.

"He won't make it," Annalee now spoke in Elvish so she wouldn't frighten the hobbits. "We travel slowly enough with how little they're experienced," she subtly motioned toward the other three.

Aragorn exhaled slowly and wiped a hand across his face. "What do you suppose we do?" he asked in the same tongue.

Arwen spoke up, "I'll take him!"

Aragorn looked at her with deep concern in his eyes. "What? No, it's far too dangerous. I'll go," he offered.

"I've always been the faster rider," she countered. Arwen reached across Frodo and stroked his face, "I can do this."

"She has a point," Annalee said, breaking the tension. "Arwen's got you beat in horsemanship Estel, she can do it."

He sighed, knowing arguing was pointless, "Okay."

Arwen whistled short and sweet, bringing about her white mare from somewhere in the trees. She mounted while Aragorn positioned Frodo safely in front her, "Ride hard, don't look back." He tenderly squeezed her hand.

She leaned down and kissed his forehead gently before snapping the reins, taking off at a hard gallop fading into the forest.

"How can you let her just take off with him?" yelled Sam. "Those wraiths are still out there and you let some stranger leave with Frodo!"

"She is no stranger," snapped Annalee, "she is my cousin and she is trying to save his life." She was growing agitated in her exhausted and wounded state, "I suggest you take some rest."

Sam looked as if she had just struck him but he said nothing more and retrieving his bed roll from Bill he sprawled across the ground beside Merry and Pippin where they fell into an uncomfortable sleep.

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Aragorn had gone off in search of water, leaving Annalee on guard duty. She sat on a tree stump, her knees bent up. Familiar wiith these woods, she knew the nearest creek was a mile out, so she had time before Aragorn returned.

Carefully, she removed her cloak and shirt to expose her bare chest. Thankful the hobbits were fast asleep and Aragorn gone, the only witness was Bill and even he was turned away, respecting her modesty. Using the bloodstained shirt as a cloth she doused it in what water remained in her canteen. The first layer of blood was caked together in large clumps, making it difficult to clean, and left her red and raw once she had finally managed to do so.

Annalee wrung out the pink-tinted water from the makeshift dressing and reapplied it to her chest, which still pumped copious amounts of fresh blood freely as if someone had turned on the water spigot and left it to run. She sighed heavily, "Well this is not good at all."

**Thanks to alexma and whrrtrudy for being the first to review. Reviews are greatly appreciated, I want my readers to like what they read! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry for taking so long to update! I had the worst case of writer's block! Anyway these next couple chapters will reveal a bit more of the relationship between Aragorn and Annalee. I know it's a shorter chapter but I hope you all like it nonetheless. **

While one hand was occupied in holding the blood-drenched, balled-up shirt against her torn and bleeding flesh, the other rummaged through her pack in frantic search of proper dressings. When her fingers brushed the stretchy material, she scoffed proudly at her small triumph, which then quickly turned to aggravation. Her attempts to find a suitable way to approach the injury were futile, for she quickly discovered there was none. However, if she cocked her head to the right, at a rather uncomfortable angle, she could at least manage a glimpse of it.

"A fine mess you've gotten yourself into, Annalee," she muttered as she fumbled with a pile of gauze.

She could hear Aragorn's voice nagging in her head, scolding her like a child, "I told you this would happen!" and "This is why you should've stayed in Rivendell!" If she wasn't quick enough and he found her like this, she'd never hear the end of it.

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Stepping over a gnarled root, Aragorn readjusted his hold on the canteens as they bobbed against his side. His mind reeled ceaselessly over Arwen and Frodo, whether they were safe or if the Nazgul had caught their trail. All these unknown possibilities plagued his mind in knowing he may have sent them to their death. He trusted Arwen's judgment and knew her talent when it came to riding, but the forests of the Weather Hills hid many unseen dangers, concealed traps, and tricks of nature. He could only pray the Valar would keep them safe.

On the breeze, a tight cry could be heard. The ranger stopped in his tracks and listened; after several moments the cry was heard again. He set off at a quicker pace, fearing the wraiths had found their camp. Dodging brambles and low hanging branches, he dashed effortlessly through the wood. Through a break in the dense foliage, he could make out the silhouettes of the three hobbits huddled together near the dying embers, but there was no sign of Annalee. Upon his entry he saw no sign of struggle and the hobbits just as he had left them, fast asleep and snoring.

A presence made itself known behind the ranger, and with one quick motion he had turned and drawn his sword only to find Annalee on the other end of it, a dagger in her hand against his raised blade, the only thing preventing him from killing her. He looked over his shoulder toward the hobbits who hadn't been disturbed by the noise and lowered his weapon. "You must want to get killed coming up behind me like that," he said as he sheathed his sword.

"Estel."

"What?" The ranger looked up and noticed his longtime friend stood before him, half naked; blood pouring from her chest. Thoughts were jumbled in his head as he tried to process what was happening. He was angry and frightened and frustrated all the same. He wanted to scream at her for her carelessness, but when he met her eyes he saw something he'd never seen before, and that was fear.

His stiff features softened as his thoughts settled, "Let me help," he said as he laid her on the hard-packed earth. The cloak covering her chest and torso was black with blood. Although he had known Annalee for many years, and he could take her in a wrestling match and gather more game in every hunting competition, he always remembered she was a woman and should be treated as such even though half the time she didn't act as one. Though it would've been easier to check and treat her wound without the cloak laid over her chest, he was able to manipulate the fabric in such a way that he could fully see the wound without degrading her modesty.

In the glow of the dying fire, Aragorn worked endlessly to stop the bleeding. He knew the wound hadn't been allotted the proper amount of time to heal, but he allowed her to come anyway. He wished he had had the heart to deny her the quest, but he didn't have time to think about the 'what if's; he could only think about then and now. Copious amounts blood poured from two separate, deep splits in the scar tissue. With both hands, he applied pressure in attempt to slow the bleeding,

Every five minutes he would lift the cloak, now unrecognizable as such from the blood, to see if the outflow had stopped. On the fourth check, a light hand, calloused and bloodied, fell onto Aragorn's. His steely eyes had only to flick up to see her face, paled from blood loss. She stared at him through half-shut eyes. In the faint light, he could not determine whether he had only imagined the tear he had seen trailing down her cheek or not.

"You haven't said much," Annalee said weakly. Her head rolled to the side, "It's bad isn't it? I guess I should apologize, tell you, you were right? I should've stayed behind?" She knew he was trying his best not to lecture her but she wanted him to be honest. Even in her weak state she could see right through him.

"You were right though," she admitted. "You were right. I should have stayed back and…" she took a deep breath, "…and allowed myself to…"

Aragorn smiled warmly in attempts to put her at ease. "Don't worry about that right now, understand? Annalee, you're going to be alright, " he said, although he wasn't wholly convinced of it himself. There was so much blood…

He continued to speak, but his voice soon sounded far away, along with the rest of the world. Everything soon turned to hazed shapes, then blurs, until her eyes fell shut, welcoming the pain and darkness that came to her as sweet release.

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Annalee could feel the sunshine warming her face. The fragrant aroma of wisteria and roses wafted in from an open window. Without even opening her eyes she knew she was home; she was in Rivendell. A voice spoke softly and indistinctly, but as her senses came together, a face came to the words: Aragorn.

"I knew I shouldn't have let you go, but you had your heart set on it," he paused and sighed, "Now look at you. Your mother entrusted me with your safety and well-being-"

"Poor move on her part if you ask me," Annalee's voice came out hoarse and cracked. She breathed in deeply, causing her lungs to ache, and opened her eyes to smile at the man, whose cheeks were now flushed bright red as he knew she had heard him. He quickly dismissed it and grinned widely, "It's about time you woke up!"

She laughed dryly, "You best stay over there!" and raised her fist teasingly.

His smile faded, "Annalee, this time you really had me going. For a moment I thought…"

"Hey," she interjected, "I'm fine!" She moved to sit up but cringed when a sharp pain shot through her chest. Her hand moved to her injury, only to find thick bandages wrapped around it.

"Not fine enough," Aragorn objected, moving from his seat by the window to help her sit up. He fluffed up the pillows behind her so she'd be comfortable, and then sat beside her, continuing, "I told you, you weren't strong enough."

Annalee scoffed at his concern; he had never acted like this before. "Estel, it's only a split scar! I just need to give it a bit more time," she protested.

Aragorn jumped up, "Annalee you were unconscious for days! It's more than just a split scar! I saw you falling behind, unable to even breathe, and you want to tell me you're alright? You're not-" He stopped once he realized he was yelling. "You're not strong enough."

He turned on his heel and huffed angrily as he departed from her chambers, she called after him, but he didn't return. She listened as the click of his boots against the hardwood faded away down the corridor.

Annalee knew she had to go after him; whenever they fought, the anger and frustration usually died out rather quickly, but this time she knew he was furious. She threw back the blankets and winced. Her limbs were stiff and standing felt strange, tiny pin-like prickles crawled over her skin as they grew accustomed to the burden of her weight. A skirt (she made a note to find Arwen and get her trousers back, immediately) the color of mint swept around her bare feet as she stumbled across her chambers until she ran into her uncle halfway through the door.

"It's good to see you up and around," laughed her uncle, "but you should still be in bed. How are you feeling?"

Annalee anxiously peered past her uncle, "I'm fine Uncle, I need to go talk to Estel."

"You just saw him! Come," he said, placing a guiding arm around her and sitting her back on the bed. He continued with his usual routine of questions he used whenever he treated someone. Annalee only listened to half the things he said. "Really, Uncle, I feel fine. I'm more sore from all the traveling than this old thing," she argued, gesturing to wound behind her bandages.

"That 'old thing' put you in quite the bind these past few days," he said sternly. "Annalee, I treated this injury and was greatly concerned with how much blood you lost, and how rapidly." He added, "I poured over your records and my books and found that when your heart was pricked that first time, slight as it may be, blood escapes it."

"Well what does that mean?" asked Annalee, now slightly concerned. "I'll be fine, won't I?"

He nodded, "Yes,I believe so." He arched an eyebrow, "If you allow yourself to rest and allow it to heal- I know how you struggle with that. The young hobbit does a much better job of it."

Her eyes widened. She had completely forgotten to ask about Frodo, "How is he? Is he alright?"

"He's stable," he replied calmly. "He's been through quite a bit, but he's awake in the healing wing. Since I know I can't get you back into bed right now, why don't you go visit him?"

After promising to see him later to discuss further details about her own injury he bid her off.

The door to the healing wing was slightly ajar. Annalee gently pushed it open and found Frodo sitting in a chair much too large for him with a book in his hand. He looked perfectly healthy, as if he had never crossed paths with the wraiths. He glanced up from his reading and, seeing Annalee, he beamed.

As his happiness was contagious, she couldn't help but return it with a similar smile. She was relieved to see him, "Hello Frodo. How are you feeling?"

"I feel great. I can't believe I'm in Rivendell! I thought for me it would always be just another part of Bilbo's stories, but it is just as he said."

"I'm glad it's everything you thought it'd be." Annalee turned away from him for a moment. "Frodo I must apologize. At Weathertop, I should have..." she paused. "I could've done something more to protect you and nearly got you killed."

A bouncy laugh escaped the halfling. Annalee turned back to him as he gently dismissed her worries, "Annalee, it wasn't your fault or Aragorn's. I already told him an apology wasn't necessary, and you don't need to either. It was my own fault. I should have known better than to put the ring on."

"That's all in the past. We all do things we regret, we just have to learn from them and carry on with ourselves." Annalee said thoughtfully.

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Annalee spent the remainder of the afternoon with Frodo until he drifted off to sleep without even realizing it. She knew he was still exhausted. She carefully lifted him from the chair (though this was probably something Elrond would not want her doing) and placed him back into the bed, leaving her breathless. She glanced back at the hobbit, engulfed by the wide bed, and crept out of the healing wing to find Estel which wouldn't take long because she had a pretty good feeling as to where he was hiding.

She climbed the stairs to the south watchtower, though it no longer served as such. A new one had been constructed and the original had been converted into a play area for them when they were children. Winded from the climb, she stopped midway and leaned against the wall. This was the third or fourth time that day she'd been left struggling to form a proper breath; it had never happened like this before.

When she reached the landing she admired the old toys and storybooks that rested on dusty shelves, as they had been doing for a number of years now. On the far wall, long curtains billowed in the shifting winds coming from the open window. She crossed the room and climbed through it onto the shingles. Aragorn sat with his knees drawn to his chest, just as he did as a child, several yards ahead.

She crawled to his side where she then unfolded her legs out in front of her, "You didn't give me the chance to thank you, you know? You stormed off before I had the chance."

"I suppose I should apologize then," he said after several minutes.

"I'd be surprised if you did," replied Annalee as she reclined on her hands. "You have every right to be angry."

"Perhaps," he said before his arms fell around her, "but I'd rather not be angry. Besides, you've had my back more times than I count. I suppose now we're even."

She laughed and held his arms a moment before attempting to shove him off, "Even! Alright Estel, fine. We're now even."

He released her from his embrace and looked straight ahead toward the skyline, "Do you remember all the times we used to come up here?"

"You mean all the times we'd sneak cakes from the kitchen and retreat here to our secret place?" She tossed him a smirk. "How could I forget? It was the one place where we were safe from the twins and Arwen. Do you remember when she repulsed you? I remember you saying she was one of the most unbearable people you'd ever met. How times have changed," she said nudging him.

He chuckled, "It was all so simple then." He sighed longingly for those days of ignorant bliss, a time when nothing could hurt them."Now everything is falling to darkness. This ring will bring about a war that will affect every corner of Middle Earth."

Annalee stared down at the shingles; her skirt formed a loose ring around her body as she toyed with the delicate fabrics. "I was hoping that the whole ring ordeal would turn out to be some sort of nightmare," she chuckled apprehensively. "It's really happening though."

Aragorn nodded solemnly, "Lord Elrond has called a council to determine the fate of the ring. By next week Rivendell will be teeming with elves, dwarves, and men. This is only the beginning."

**Well what did you all think? Thanks for all the previous reviews! Leave another and let me know if you liked it or even if you didn't. I'm open to suggestions and criticism. I'll be updating another chapter soon to make up for such a long waiting period and there may be a plot twist on its way!**


	4. Chapter 4

Annalee stood, unmoving, on the terrace adjacent to her chambers. The crisp autumn wind blew her dark tresses about her face and sent goose bumps up and down her arms.

A troubled look hung upon her face; her eyes cast down, staring at nothing in particular. The news her uncle told her of her injury weighed heavily on her mind. His words kept reeling in her head.

After eating a light supper with Aragorn and the hobbits, she had hurried to the library, keen on keeping the promise to her uncle to discuss her predicament. She had been in a fair mood; spending time with the halflings left her in good spirits, and she had promised to observe their sparring lesson, taught by Aragorn no less. Annalee had figured Lord Elrond would only need her for a moment.

The library was larger than any other she'd ever seen; the roof touching bookshelves lined the walls and created a maze of corridors, all packed tight with books and scrolls of foreign tongues. It took her the better half of an hour to locate her uncle who had been on the second floor. He welcomed her from above and glided down the spiral staircase, his robes trailing behind him.

"Good evening, Uncle," she greeted.

The usual light in Elrond's wisdom filled eyes was dim, and lines creased his face where his brow lay, knitted together in discontent. "Child," he said somberly, "walk with me."

Her arm hooked around her uncle's, she allowed him to escort her through the gardens until they came upon a courtyard in full bloom of white roses. They dotted the hedges and hung off pillar climbing vines. Though small and insignificant in comparison to the rest of Rivendell, Annalee loved it. It was her place of solitude where she would come to escape her troubles and uncertainties and also a place of memory. Within the borders of the verges, she could still see her father spinning her around in the falling autumn leaves and the games of hide and seek with her uncle's children.

A feeling of longing tugged on her heartstrings along with a slight distress. Coming here of all places to discuss her dilemma only added to her anxiety. Her uncle either had good news and he had brought her here to add to her happiness or it was the opposite and being here was meant to assuage the pain. Annalee's palms grew clammy in anticipation, and she could feel her pulse elevate.

Elrond pulled his arm from Annalee's and sat upon one of the stone carved benches. Annalee stood uneasily, as she was too restless to be seated. It was then she realized just how tired her uncle looked, the way he sat with his shoulders forward, slouching, something he never did. He raised his eyes to look at her and smiled before a small cry escaped his lips, causing Annalee to jump. She had never heard him do any such thing and it worried her, "Uncle, what is it?"

He gathered himself, and after letting out a long, shaky sigh he finally spoke, "I've been studying your case, again, trying to find the best means of treatment for you and," he paused, "and I found something. I missed something."

Annalee could feel her stomach sinking inside her, "What?"

He nodded slowly, almost like he was ashamed. "The breech in your heart combined with your pulse ratings…too much blood is pumping through your veins; so much that your heart cannot keep up with it. I thought-," he paused and collected himself, "I thought during the surgery I had been able to fix it."

Her stomach, at this point, in the ground, she murmured, "What does that mean?"

"It means," he met her blue eyes, swimming in confusion, "your heart will continue trying to keep up with the rate your blood flows," his voice wavered, "until one day it won't be able to keep up anymore and…"

"I'll die," Annalee finished. She was now convinced her stomach had dug itself out of her body and deep into the ground, deeper than any dwarf's mine. "Well," she finally managed, "I guess the choice of my mortality has been made for me."

Elrond rose and pulled his niece into the throngs of his robes for a comforting embrace.

She leaned into his chest, her ear resting against his steady heartbeat, "Does Estel know?"

Lord Elrond stroked her hair and kissed her forehead, "No."

And that was that.

One false move of hers in a meaningless fight and now the thousands of years she could have chosen to live were cut down to what might not even be a year, and all because of one foolish mistake. Thunder rumbled in the distance, signaling a storm was on the way; dark clouds hung heavily in the sky above her. She laughed scornfully. It was fitting wasn't it? A dark and gloomy day arriving just as she received news of her premature death, lurking around the corner, just waiting for her to walk into it.

In all honesty, Annalee wasn't sure of how she felt. There was no gnawing feeling of anger or heart-wrenching grief. Of course she figured half of her was still in shock and soon the cork on her bottle of emotions would pop off and everything would spill out at once but for now her main concern was for Estel. How was she to tell him something like this? How could a person tell anyone they cared for and loved that they were going to die?

Annalee looked toward the sky as if it held the answer but was only met by a fat drop of rain spattering across her cheek. She welcomed the rain as it picked up speed and dynamic, enduring the downpour, letting it wash over her.

Time became irrelevant as the sky rained down upon her. She wasn't exactly sure of how long she had been standing there, but it had been long enough that her hair had plastered to her face and neck along with her dress that clung to her skin, sodden with water.

The sound of hooves clopping against the cobblestone path below drew her attention over the railing.

A lithe figure, clad in brown and green, sat atop a white mare. Twinkling eyes gazed out from under a traveler's cloak toward the girl soaked to her core, standing out in the storm and enjoying it. It was strange to him yet endearing all the same. His lips parted as if he'd call out to her when a voice called out to him from a place unseen from her viewpoint. He answered them and looked back to the banister to find the girl was gone; unaware she stood just inside the doors, dripping water into slow-growing puddles around her feet.

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In the days that followed Annalee had carried on acting as her usual self. She entertained Merry and Pippin's jokes and tales and spent time in the stables with Arwen. They laughed and enjoyed each other's company like nothing had changed. Elrond had spoken few words to her since his announcement, fewer when he removed the sutures in her chest earlier that morning. She wanted to say something to him; tell him that she would be fine and that he needn't feel guilty but that would mean she'd accepted his news and that was something she knew she wasn't quite ready to do.

As Aragorn had forewarned, the House of Elrond had transformed from a serene and peaceful dwelling to a house for wayward travelers. Annalee hardly even ate in the dining hall anymore. The dwarves were rowdy and loud; always taunting the elves who would turn the other cheek, pretending they couldn't hear their insults and remarks. It was childish and too much for Annalee to deal with so she'd round up as much food as she could manage and with the hobbits, steal away to one of the quads by the falls. It was much more appealing and less overwhelming for the hobbits.

Annalee leaned back on her palms; the grass cool beneath them, "So tell me, what's it like? The Shire?"

The hobbits all lit up at the mention of their homeland, "Oh, it's excellent really!" exclaimed Pippin through a mouthful of bread.

"Our hobbit holes are quite cozy," explained Sam, "although I'm not quite sure if they'd be for you Miss Annalee."

She sipped her wine, "I don't know, Sam. Maybe one day I'll drop by for a visit and we can see." To this he responded with a bashful smile.

"Now don't go forgetting the Green Dragon!" added Merry with a raise of his glass to which all the hobbits then toasted, "It'd be criminal to visit the Shire and not go there!"

Annalee smiled widely and joined their toast, "I'll make sure to remember that Merry. I swear to you, if I ever find myself in the Shire I'll find you for a drink!"

Amidst all the laughing, jokes, and fun Annalee couldn't help but feel a slight tinge of regret in her careless promise to Merry. Hopefully Frodo would be able to leave the ring with one of the council members and return, content and ignorant of evil, to their beloved Shire where they could forget about her and Rivendell and the Ring. It would be hard enough to tell Aragorn about her ailment but the hobbits? She had grown quite fond of them and she was sure the feeling was mutual; this would be more difficult than she imagined.

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Nearing the end of the second week since their arrival in Rivendell the council meeting would commence the following morning. Annalee had every intention of attending, though against Lord Elrond's wishes.

"Annalee!" called a voice from behind.

At the sound of her name she turned around to find Merry and Pippin running down the hall making quite the scene. The halls were already alive and bustling with activity. Men and elves shot disapproving glares their way as they rushed by.

"What is it?" she asked stifling a laugh. The hobbits, red faced and out of breath could hardly form a sentence.

"Frodo…" breathed Merry who was now holding his side.

"Is he alright?" she asked fearing his injury had worsened.

Pippin exhaled raggedly, "He said he needs you…he's that-er-that…"

"That way," joined Merry pointing a short finger down the hall.

Unsure if there was some sort of emergency or the hobbits were just being their usual easily excited selves she hurried in the direction Merry pointed. At the end of the hall she heard laughter lilting from outside. Peering out the window she saw two familiar faces under the shade of an oak tree. Heart singing, she rushed down the steps and into the courtyard where she found Frodo with none other than his beloved Uncle Bilbo.

Frodo smiled and waved her over. She took calm, measured steps not wishing to startle the elderly hobbit with her excitement, "Do you remember me?" she asked minding her eagerness.

Bilbo's soft, age worn eyes studied her, "I remember you," he laughed heartily, "Yes! I remember you my dear!"

Annalee rejoiced inwardly, "Really?"

He nodded and clapped Frodo's knee, "My boy, I saved this dear girl! Would you believe it? Once my time with Thorin's company was over and I was journeying home…" And so Bilbo retold the entire tale, start to finish but neither Frodo or Annalee cared. He told it with such feeling and excitement it didn't matter that they already knew the details.

Frodo chuckled and flashed a delighted smile Annalee's way when he finished. Bilbo pat a wrinkled hand against Annalee's, "Any bandits giving you trouble nowadays?"

Annalee squeezed his small palm gingerly, "None I can't handle."

He smiled and sighed softly, "That's good my dear, that's good."

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Toward the end of breakfast the following morning Aragorn collected Frodo from their table and disappeared from the dining hall to the meeting.

A few minutes after their departure Annalee wiped her hands with a napkin and rose from her chair, "I'll see you guys later for another sparring lesson."

Sneaking along with a group of elves heading for the council Annalee slipped from their pack and behind a statue. From her hidden position she could only make out half the council, including Frodo and her uncle.

Chairs had been formed into a circle allowing everyone the same view. Low voices whispered uncomfortably to each other awaiting the meeting to commence. The dwarves fidgeted in their seats unhappy being in such a small enclosure with elves.

Lord Elrond stood after scanning their faces, accounting everyone's presence. He cleared his throat silencing the assembly, "Strangers of distant lands, friends of old," he greeted with a wave of his arm, "You have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle Earth stands upon the brink of destruction! You will unite or you will fall."

"Way to ease them into it," Annalee whispered to herself. Leave it to her uncle to get straight to the point, no room for frivolities.

A loose tension hung in the air as Elrond directed his attention toward Frodo who looked like he wanted nothing more than to retreat into the forest behind him, "Bring forth the ring."

Cautiously the perturbed halfling obeyed and at the stone table in the center of the council he placed Isildur's Bane.

An eerie silence fell over the council as the power of the ring drew them forward, some near the point of falling from their seats.

"It is a gift," whispered an all too familiar voice that made her blood freeze; it couldn't be. "A gift to the foes of Mordor!" he proclaimed. How she craved to peer around the statue to see the person the voice belonged to but she restrained herself.

"Why not use this ring?" proposed the same voice, "Long has my father. The Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay! By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe! Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy! Let us use it against him!"

The man stepped into view making himself known. Dark red hair framed dark eyes. The White tree of Gondor adorned his chest.

Annalee felt nauseous. Her heart pounded so hard she feared it would shatter her ribcage. Long had it been since she'd heard anything of Gondor's finest, even longer since she had looked upon him.

"You cannot wield it Boromir!" Aragorn countered, "None of us can. The ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master."

The Gondorian soldier sneered, "and what would a ranger know of such matters?"

An elf all but jumped from his seat, "This is no mere ranger," he said in defense of the ranger, "He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."

"_Who are you and how do you know about Aragorn?" _Annalee wondered as she awaited the next move.

Boromir stared on in disbelief toward the Dunedain, "_This _is Isildur's heir?"

"And heir to the throne of Gondor!" the elf added, a certain passion for the ranger hanging off his words. His hands twitched as he fought the urge to lash out at the man and his ignorance. A fire burned in his eyes; eyes that looked vaguely familiar.

Aragorn sighed and rubbed his temple, "Sit down Legolas," he said in Elvish to which the elf reluctantly obliged.

"Gondor has no king!" fumed Boromir. With a glare toward Aragorn he practically spat, "Gondor needs no king!" he returned to his seat.

Elrond looked around cautiously before he rejoined the discussion, "Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom. There is only one choice. The ring must be destroyed! It must be cast back into the fires of Mount Doom where it was forged for only there can it be unmade."

No one spoke. No one moved. Even Annalee found herself holding her breath in anticipation.

"One does not simply walk into Mordor," challenged Boromir, "Its black gates are guarded by more than just orcs. Not with ten thousand men could do this; it is folly."

Legolas rose again from his seat, "Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond just said? The ring must be destroyed!"

"And I suppose you're the one to do it?" countered a heavily bearded dwarf, "I would be dead before I saw the ring in the hands of an elf!"

To this remark Annalee took slight offense and soon discovered she wasn't the only one. The whole council was in an uproar, everyone was up and fighting; arguing over who was most fit to destroy the ring.

"I will take it!" piped Frodo from his seat.

"No," Annalee cried softly.

"I will take the ring to Mordor," he repeated with less confidence now that everyone's eyes were on him, "Though I do not know the way."

"I will help you bear this burden Frodo Baggins. As long as it is yours to bear," Gandalf then appeared from the side invisible to Annalee. Her eyes widened when she saw him. She hadn't even known he was in Rivendell yet there he was, ten feet in front of her.

Aragorn rose from his seat, "If by life or death I can protect you, I will." He knelt before him and swore it, "You have my sword."

"And you have bow," vowed Legolas.

"And my ax!" pledged Gimli.

Boromir sauntered slowly, stopping inches before Frodo. "You carry the fate of us all little one. If this is indeed the will of the council then Gondor shall see it done."

Just as Annalee was about to reveal herself Sam burst from the bushes, twigs and leaves sticking from his hair. "Hey! I'm coming too!"

"Hardly as it almost impossible to separate you two even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not," chided Lord Elrond to which Sam blushed bashfully.

"Oi! We're coming too!" and just like that Merry and Pippin popped in from behind pillars, "You'll have to send us home, tied up in a sack to stop us!" claimed Merry.

Heart still pounding Annalee stepped forth. To her appearance everyone stared, several men bowed their heads. She could feel Elrond, Boromir, and even Aragorn's eyes boring into her but she ignored them focusing only on Frodo.

Kneeling before him and his smiling face she took his hands in hers, "We've already had one adventure together. I'd love nothing more than to share in this one. You have me until the end."

She stood beside him and eyed her uncle defiantly. As much as she respected him she would not back down from this.

"Ten companions." He attested, "Very well. You will be the Fellowship of the Ring."

Once the council was dismissed she made for a fast exit not wanting to deal with any questions or reprimands from her uncle and Aragorn. She hurried down the hall when her name was called behind her by none other than Boromir. Pretending she didn't hear him she quickened her pace.

"Annalee!" he called again, matching her speed.

She turned fast on her heel, "What do you want of me?"

He seemed taken aback by her anger, "What are you doing in Rivendell?"

Annalee narrowed her eyes and scoffed, "I left Gondor Boromir. Not the entirety of Middle Earth!" For a split second she considered giving him a similar kick like the man at Bree but she thought better of it and turned to leave when he grabbed her arm, "Annalee, I'm sorry."

Slowly she turned to face him. For many years she had imagined this very moment, "You're sorry? For what Boromir? What words can you say to me that can make up for the agony your family caused me? My father is dead because of Denethor's inability to rule! He didn't deserve to die!" she yanked her arm free from his grip, "You knew my father had no hand in the plot against your father! You knew it!"

"Annalee," he whispered.

"No Boromir, you listen to me! You were my friend and I trusted you," she seethed, "You didn't have to watch him die but I did! I watched the life leave my own father's eyes!"

The soldier cringed upon hearing this. He had had no idea.

Nothing could stop the outflow of anger. She had kept these feelings caged inside her for far too long, "Then," she cried, "Then I returned home, here, to relay the news of his execution to my mother. She was devastated! So much that without so much as a goodbye she departed for the Gray Havens. I was left alone without a family and yet you want me to accept your apology?" she said coldly. "It means nothing to me."

This time when she walked away he didn't follow. He could only stare at the floor where she had been standing, disappointment stinging at his heart.

Blinded by her anger she hardly had time to react when Lord Elrond crossed her path, "Just who I was looking for, a word please?"

With a sigh of indignation she followed him to his study. She crossed her arms across her chest, awaiting his reproach.

"Do you understand the danger of the mission at hand?" he asked once seated behind his desk, "It's not safe for you, especially in your condition."

Annalee threw her hands up in the air, "My condition! Uncle, I assure you I mean no disrespect but I could care less about my condition."

In her exchange with Boromir the cork had come loose on the bottle of her emotions. She could feel the pressure building within, "and why should I? Why should I care about the danger? It's not like I have to worry about coming back." The fire Boromir had kindled inside her was quickly becoming a blaze. Then the cork shot off, "I'm dead anyway! You have to face it Uncle!"

"Don't!" burst Elrond causing Annalee to recoil a step back, "Don't ask me to sit back and watch you die!" Upon seeing the effect his harsh words had on her he calmed his voice. "Annalee," he soothed, "You can still sail for the Undying Lands."

To this she laughed contemptuously, "I'm sorry Uncle but I will not simply sail away from my own problems while the rest of Middle Earth suffers," she wrapped her fingers around the door handle and closed her eyes. Inhaling rather shakily she turned back to face him, "I don't want to die. I'm not ready to," her voice trailed off, a new exhaustion replaced her anger, "but I will do something worth living for while I'm still here."

Annalee turned the handle, "I will not be so easily claimed by death. Not yet." She opened the door and froze having come face to face with Aragorn.

**Quickly updated, as promised. C'mon now, I know you lovely readers have to have something to say about that! Lend me your thoughts, I can go several directions from this point on but I need feedback! Until next time ;)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Many thanks to M and Musicismylife1214000 for your reviews! Enjoy**

Eyes; unreadable and blank, locked in on Annalee who so desperately averted his hard stare, "I don't understand," Aragorn said, "all this talk of death, Annalee?"

Annalee lifted her eyes to meet his, "Estel, I had no intention of you finding out this way."

"Find what out? I don't understand," though he tried to keep his composure a slight panic was beginning to leak into his words.

Lifting her chin, meeting the ranger's eyes, "I'm dying, Estel."

Minutes passed and no one spoke. Trapped between Lord Elrond and Aragorn's silence created an unbearable tension. The silence was deafening.

Finally Elrond rose from his seat, "Estel?"

Aragorn snapped his attention toward his adopted father, "How could this happen?" he advanced toward the elf lord, "You were supposed to heal her!"

Lord Elrond's head was bowed low, his eyes hidden from view. He had long been prepared for Aragorn's wrath.

"Estel, it's not his fault." Annalee said from the doorway, "Don't be so fast to lay blame. It was no fault of Lord Elrond's; because of all he's done I'm still yet able to draw breath."

A trace of a smile graced her uncle's face as she said this. Aragorn on the other hand had yet to be assured, "How can you just accept this?" He looked from her to Elrond, "How can you stand aside and let death weather away at you until it makes its final claim?"

Something of a laugh escaped Annalee's lips, "Tell me, how am I supposed to avoid fate?" Her eyebrow perked awaiting the explanation she knew he didn't have, "Tell me how I can escape it and I will gladly do so. I can't pretend this isn't happening! I have no choice but to accept it." No longer wanting to stand around explaining something she had no control over she left them

The silence of the halls seemed strange now that Rivendell had emptied, leaving only the members of the fellowship behind. Annalee had actually grown accustomed to the crowded rooms and bustling halls but now the only sound heard echoing down the corridor were those of her own footsteps.

Wandering the house of her uncle with no clear path in mind had always been a way she could clear her head. Her brain was muddled with thoughts of Aragorn and her uncle, her condition, the fellowship, and everything in between. She couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt in her chest for yelling at Aragorn the way she did. He meant well but was blind in his grief, as she had expected him to be. Her passing would weigh heavily on him. It was in knowing the pain it would cause him that made it hard on her.

She stopped mid stride when she realized she didn't quite know where she was. Strange, Annalee knew Rivendell like the back of her hand but the unfamiliarity she felt in this particular corridor made her all the more curious so she continued on her path.

The further she roamed the halls the more she began to remember about them. It was the Eastern wing that had long since been abandoned and merely used as storage. It was also the wing in which her family used to reside. Yes, Annalee remembered it all now. She found her pace quicken beneath her until she was running. Without even thinking she let her feet guide her, left, then right, right again, until she came to a stop before a brilliantly crafted door. Her fingers twisted around the smooth gilded handle and turned it. Immediately she released it and took a step back.

Annalee hadn't set foot in her mother's chambers since her impromptu departure all those years ago. Don't get her wrong, she had always had every intention to rampage through them in hopes of finding some clue, some answer as to why she would leave her but every time she had convinced herself to do it she would back at out.

However things were now different. As cliché as it was Annalee didn't want to leave things unresolved so taking a deep breath she gave the door a gentle push. It swung open silently on its hinges. As she passed through the arched framing a strange feeling crept down her spine eliciting a shudder. It was one of those moments that Arwen would tell her that her mother's spirit was still there but Annalee had never been one to believe that sort of thing.

Pushing the thought aside Annalee gazed around the room she had spent so much time in as a child. Everything was still in place; the canopied bed pushed against the wall, her father's reading chair by the hearth, the chests, and mirrors. Everything. Nostalgia took over as she explored the remnants of her childhood home. On the wall by her father's chair tiny scratches marked the wall where he measured her on each of her birthdays. A smile tugged at her lips as she opened the drawers of her mother's dresser. The scent of her perfume wafted from the garments left behind reminding Annalee of her tight embraces.

When she pushed the last drawer shut a light clink of metal resounded off the floorboards. Sunlight glinted off the metallic object that had fallen. Annalee knelt down and picked it up. Turning it over in her fingers it was a heart shaped locket bearing the White Tree of Gondor. It had been a gift from her father. Annalee remembered when he sent it to her, for their anniversary. She clasped the chain behind her neck, the pendant falling beneath her collarbones and resting over her heart.

Having something of her mother reminded her of all the days they spent together and the memories that went with them. Though her mother was gone she was glad those memories weren't. Annalee sat on the bed and sunk back into the pillows. Although she didn't want to admit it she was constantly feeling the fatigue weighing down on her. Curling up in the blankets she easily fell asleep.

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The sun was setting when her eyelids fluttered open. Although hours had passed she didn't feel much more rested than before. She turned her head and noticed an age worn book lying in the bedside table. Sitting up she pulled it into her lap. Its spine was fraying and cracked, the cover faded. This was the condition most books her mother read were left in. Upon opening the book a piece of yellowed parchment fell out. It was a letter no less and addressed to her. Annalee unfolded it and began to read,

Dearest Annalee,

I know my departure may come as a shock to everyone, to you especially. I need you to know it is by no fault of yours I've left. This was my decision. There is nothing left for me here in Rivendell. I've lived many years and with your father's death I couldn't bear the thought of another eternity without him. I know it's selfish of me, to leave you behind without so much as a goodbye but I can only hope you'll read this and understand. Understand that I love you, nothing will ever change that. I'm so proud of you Annalee. I know I never expressed it but I am. Watching you grow into such a strong, sophisticated woman has been the biggest joy to my life. You have so much of your father in you. I know you'll do great things. You have my heart forever.

Feeling ashamed Annalee blinked away the tears that furiously stung at her eyes. Her mother had only ever had her best interest in mind and all these years she had let her hatred get the better of her. She folded the letter into a small square and pressed it inside the locket.

A subtle knock rasped against the door causing Annalee to jump. Who would have followed her down to this wing? Better yet, how did someone know to look for her down here?

She crossed the room and opened the door to find Aragorn standing on the other side.

"You've found me," she said walking back into the room.

Aragorn followed her in, "Yes and it wasn't easy. I've been trying to find you for hours."

"I've been avoiding you for hours," Annalee replied simply.

Aragorn tilted his head, brow furrowed, "Why?"

"Are you really going to make me explain this?" He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. Basically his way of saying he wouldn't budge. Annalee huffed irritably, "And you call me stubborn." She exhaled slowly trying to find the proper words, "Estel, since Lord Elrond told me of my condition I had been trying to find the best way to tell you but I couldn't because," her voice wavered, "because I don't know how to say goodbye to you-" she sighed and tried to compose herself, she didn't want to cry. "I know I still have time but I don't know how much and I just can't bear to think of not seeing you again, or Arwen, or the twins—" Aragorn opened his arms and pulled Annalee in close to him. She clung to him, shaking with harsh sobs that hurt her throat. She didn't care about hiding weakness from him anymore. in that moment she needed him more than ever. Aragorn fell to his knees and held her close and listened to words he had never heard her say before, "I'm scared Estel."

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Having reconciled with Aragorn, Annalee felt as though a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. She had gotten Arwen to surrender her leggings and tunic (which turned out to be quite the fight) and changed immediately. That afternoon she had joined in the sparring lesson with the hobbits and quickly rediscovered her strength and had now retired to Elrond's library.

Turning the page of one of her Uncle's books her ears pricked at the sound of movement. She closed the book and leaned over the banister to see Boromir admiring the Shards of Narsil down below. Seeing him made her stomach lurch but if she was to be stuck with him on the journey to Mordor she figured she'd have to at least make nice with him for the time being.

"I'd be careful with that!" she called down causing Boromir to jump out of his skin and drop the hilt. He dropped to the floor and picked up, embarrassed. Annalee hurried down the stairs to where the soldier stood. She took the hilt from his hands and laid it down carefully with its broken brethren.

"Annalee, I have to tell you something." Boromir said.

"What is it?" she asked secretly hoping it wouldn't be some self-pity story.

"After the council when you told me your father had been executed. I had no idea."

Annalee looked at him, disbelief shining in her eyes. "What do you mean? You were at the hearing."

He nodded and chanced a glance at her before looking back at the ground, "I was at the hearing yes. I knew he was proved guilty but I wasn't aware of his sentencing. I was called to fight at Osgiliath before I knew any further details. Upon my return you were gone and when I asked my father of your whereabouts he said he had banished you and your father out of Gondor."

"You're telling the truth?"

Finally he looked at her instead of the ground, "I swear on my honor as soldier."

Annalee let out a shaky breath, "I guess I should apologize then for acting so cruelly toward you."

He shook his head, "No, I still could've stood against my father but I let my cowardice get the better of me."

At first she didn't believe him, that he was lying but she could sense the humility in his words and in his face. He was telling the truth.

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At dawn Annalee woke feeling well rested. Adrenaline tingled in her fingertips as she readied herself. She pulled on her leggings and light green tunic, tied the deeper green cloak around her shoulders, and after fastening her weapons around her waist she set out to wake the hobbits.

She threw open the door and pulled open the drapery, "Come on hobbits! Let's get a move on, day is breaking and we must leave soon!"

A pillow flew her way grazing her shoulder, "I'll remember that one Pippin!" she promised, she'd figure out how to get revenge on him later, "Come on now, we cannot delay. The ring won't bring itself to Mordor."

Slowly they crawled out from under the sheets and dressed themselves. After and light breakfast her and Sam fetched Bill from the stables. They strapped on his saddlebags, loaded down with food and medicine for the journey, and met the others at the gates.

They arrived in time to see Aragorn letting go of Arwen's hands. She smiled though her eyes were sad, she loved him so. Annalee approached her uncle and his children. She looked to each of them, "I wish I had some sort of speech or something," she laughed halfheartedly, "but I don't because I won't say goodbye. What I will say though, is that I love you all very much."

Elrohir lurched forward and hugged her, "Love you too Anna." The others followed in the same fashion, ending with Elrond. He pulled away and looked her over, "This isn't goodbye?"

Annalee smiled reassuringly and shook her head, "It's never goodbye."

**Alrighty, now that Annalee's revealed her softer side to the world and her backstory officially establish what say we move on to the quest to destroy the ring? Did you love it? Hate it? Lend me your thoughts on this chapter and the next chapter will hopefully be up sometime next week! :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**No reviews for the last chapter but a big thanks to those who followed and favored my little tale! Here I am again for chapter six. I hope you enjoy it!**

The morning sun shone brightly overhead, not a cloud in sight. The fellowship seemed to be in good spirits, at least for now. It would only be a matter of days before the miles would get to them.

Annalee oversaw the company from her place at the rear. Merry and Pippin bounced from person to person telling jokes and asking for stories. She was glad to have them along; their smiling faces could bring light to any situation. Frodo and Sam on the other hand kept to themselves, talking mainly to each other. Since the council the young ring bearer had been quiet, not as open and excited as he had been before. Sam watched over him more than anyone else, constantly asking how he was, checking his wounds, and shooting glares at Boromir when he thought no one was looking.

Walking, more so gliding along the path's rocky edge was Legolas. She wondered if he remembered her from the balcony. Though she looked different now than she did then or in other words, attire fit for a ranger and not soaking wet.

He was soundless in near everything he did though his every movement was expressive. The way he hiked with his shoulders back and head held high unlike the others who were already slumped over, fatigue already starting to take its hold. Seldom did he speak; a brief exchange with Gandalf or Aragorn before he returned to his usual reserved self. Annalee wanted to ask him how he knew Aragorn and why he defended him the way he did at the council but there was something that kept her back, what it was about him she didn't know.

"Annalee my dear," Gandalf interrupted her thoughts with his age worn voice. She hadn't realized he'd fallen back beside her, "We're passing out of Rivendell."

She nodded, "I know."

"If you stop right here," he tapped the ground with his staff, "Right here and turn around," as he spoke he did just that, "You can see all of Imladris."

Hesitantly, Annalee did the same. He was right, the entire city shone brilliantly. The waterfalls reflected the sunlight as if they poured diamonds rather than water, the flags adorning the towers blew proudly in the afternoon wind.

Grief wrapped its cruel fingers around her heart and squeezed as she looked, for what would be the last time, at the only home she'd ever truly known. Heaving a heavy sigh she turned away as the others were gaining ground. Gandalf followed her and took hold of her shoulder, "My dear," he paused and smiled, "take your time."

Annalee shifted her pack across her other shoulder rather uncomfortably and offered a small smile, "I'll only be a moment."

The old wizard gazed upon the young girl before him. He may be centuries older than her but his senses were as they had been all his life and though she was smiling he could see the sadness in her eyes. It took great courage for her to do what she was doing and he couldn't have prouder. He was relieved that he had been able to persuade her uncle in allowing her to travel with the company of the ring for her purpose in this journey was more important than he could foresee. Gandalf laughed heartily and winked, "Your heart is ever strong my dear. You'll discover that eventually."

He lingered a moment longer before powering ahead, leaving her behind. What he meant by that she wasn't sure for he often spoke in riddles but whatever he meant, the hidden message hung with her. Looking back once more over her shoulder toward the only home she'd ever really known she lifted a hand in farewell to the city she'd never see again.

Gandalf leaned on his staff and watched her, a wise old smile sitting upon his face. Strong, he thought, strong indeed.

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Days passed, each day they drew closer to Mordor. They traveled at a brisk pace, covering mile after mile, stretch after stretch. During these days a routine had been established, unspoken but understood by all. They'd travel efficiently throughout the day, breaking once for a midday meal and then sleep during the night. Watches were set in pairs of two, most nights Aragorn with Annalee and then Gimli with Boromir or Legolas.

Boromir, Aragorn, and Annalee furthered the hobbits training in self-defense and swordsmanship as best they could. Frodo and Sam prepared most of the meals, refusing help from any who offered. And that was how things generally worked.

Sweat drenched and weary from the long hours of hiking Gandalf called for the rest period. In the midst of the sweeping fields a cluster of rocks and boulders was nestled comfortably within the folds of the land. This is where we settled for the time being. They'd stop there only a matter of hours for they had much more ground to cover that day.

Annalee shrugged off her pack and stretched aching limbs. The endless travel had taken its toll on everyone and Annalee was glad no symptoms had really shown. Several times breathing had become difficult, something she had still been getting used to. It grated on her nerves and it angered her that there was nothing she could do to prevent it but she continued on. She would not be the weak link in the chain though it seemed to her Aragorn thought she was. He had cast concerned looks her way whenever he thought she wasn't looking but she saw it, and with each one her heart clenched a little tighter, from the illness or sadness she didn't know.

Now she looked upon him. The ranger sat, perched on a boulder overseeing the lesson in swordsmanship Boromir was teaching Merry and Pippin. He observed in silence though several times he'd toss out a word of caution. As if feeling her stare he glanced in her direction, only briefly, before returning his attention to the hobbits.

Annalee brushed off his look and busied herself with the other group of hobbits. Frodo and Sam were attempting to light a fire, to no avail of course so she offered her assistance.

Quickly the dry brush caught light. After building up the small flames with spare kindling she sat back and let them get to work, preparing sausage and vegetables. Leave it to hobbits to never leave home without a full meal plan, no food groups left out for them.

"How are you faring?" she asked. The way they had distanced themselves from everyone else had concerned her. Being the ring bearer was a heavy burden and why he didn't share this burden with the rest of the fellowship concerned her. They were his support and he should utilize them. He shouldn't be alone, no one should.

Sam exchanged a look with Frodo as if he was cautioning him not to answer. Frodo nodded and looked to Annalee, "We're fine. Tired, but faring just fine."

Annalee sucked her lip and nodded, why was he being so allusive? "Well take your rest and recover your strength. We need everyone remaining strong." She smiled and kindly dismissed herself.

She passed Gimli and Gandalf, who were bickering about Middle Earth's history, each trying to get their point across. A tall, rounded overhang protruded from the rocks. It was far enough away from the others but within hearing distance in case they needed her. The tight feeling in her chest had slowly grown since their arrival and she desired nothing more than for it to disappear.

Legs stretched out and dangling over the edge, Annalee soon found herself lost in the surrounding scenery. In the distance the jagged ridge line of Caradhras outlined the sky, the sun beating down relentlessly causing ripples of heat to wave through the air. Even though it was autumn, when there were no trees for shade the warm temperatures persisted.

"May I join you?" asked a calm voice.

Annalee turned and was surprised to see the elf prince. They had only shared sentry together twice and in that time neither of them had spoken a word to each other, only subtle looks had ever been exchanged between the pair. She nodded and motioned for him to come over with a wave of her hand.

In one swift motion he had swung his legs down and over the cliff's edge without so much as stirring the dust.

Together they sat in silence, much like their nights on lookout. Annalee felt like she should say something like she had a few days earlier on the trail but again she didn't. Strange as it may be even though they didn't speak, his presence and the way he held himself had a voice all his own. Perhaps that's why she could never say anything. His every move was graceful and elegant, speaking long, slow words to the world and why should she disrupt that when she could just watch and understand him?

"Never did I think the woman from the balcony, lavishing in thunderstorms would be a part of this journey." He said coolly, eyes not leaving the skyline before them.

Annalee stared at him, a slight wonder sparkling in her eyes. He had remembered her. "You can recognize me?" She pondered over this a moment. "I looked quite different then."

He nodded, "Yes, you were sad then."

Her heart skipped a beat, embarrassed. "Pardon?"

For the first time he looked away from the horizon and at the girl beside him, "It was overriding all else there was to you. I was going to call out to you but was called away by one of my men. I wanted to ask if you were okay," he took in her reaction. With each word the scarlet on her cheeks spread a little more and her eyes fell a little lower. "I also was curious as to why you'd be standing in the rain, I'm sure it ruined the gown."

Annalee laughed lightly, "Yes it did."

A smile tugged at the corner of the prince's lips. It brought him joy to make her smile; she had done it few times since their departure.

Annalee mulled over what he had said prior, that she was sad then. Was she not sad to a degree now? She certainly felt a pang of sorrow each time her heart betrayed her but then looking upon the hobbits and everything they'd sacrificed brought joy to her. It was in those moments her faith was renewed and she carried on.

"Why did you come?" he asked. "If I may ask," he added to not seem so forward.

Annalee sighed knowing the answer. If she had stayed behind she would be sailing for the Undying Lands so she embarked on the long journey to Mordor to do something worth living for. However that answer would be a bit much for someone she had just shared a proper introduction with, "I came because I wanted to do something bigger than myself."

"That's-"A clatter of swords and shouts of distress cut his response short. The two jumped up and practically sprinted across the rocks, Legolas effortlessly, Annalee sliding once or twice, until they reached the source of the cries.

It had been nothing to worry about. In fact it was more so something to laugh at. Somehow Merry and Pippin had managed to disarm Boromir and tackle him to the ground. Watching the full grown soldier try to wriggle out from the hobbits made Annalee's sides ache from laughing so hard.

Boromir suddenly sat up, cutting short the laughter, and was staring past the group toward the distance.

Annalee watched him for several moments before turning to look. Black dots speckled across the wide blue sky. Annalee squinted, "What is that?"

"Nothing! A wisp of cloud!" grumbled Gimli.

Annalee blocked out the noise around her and centered her vision on the 'wisp of cloud.' It was moving, against the wind. Wings of black birds flapped madly and in moments they'd be upon them.

"Crebain from Dunland!" Legolas called, leaping down gracefully from the rock face.

"Hide!" Aragorn commanded as he grabbed his pack and the nearest hobbit before diving into the brush.

Everyone scrambled for their things, making sure not a trace of them was able to be seen from above. Slender fingers slipped around Annalee's wrist and pulled her forcibly out of sight, into the thorny shrubs. Legolas all but flattened himself against the girl, as if he was shielding her from the birds, Saruman's spies. The caws and cries of the crows were deafening as the fellowship lay in wait, desperately awaiting their departure.

Under the light pressure of his weight Annalee wheezed. Such a burst of energy had made her head spin and chest tighten up. She made every attempt to hide the uneven breaths and to quiet the ragged sound that followed each. She could feel Legolas' eyes on her, the tension in his muscles, the steady beat of his heart against hers, racing inside as it tried to keep up. He hadn't any idea what was wrong but he couldn't risk asking what was the matter, for the Crebain still stormed on above. He glanced down from the skies toward Annalee, whose face was contorted in discomfort.

After what felt like hours the screeching shrieks died away as the birds vanished into the distance. Still, they remained hidden for several minutes until Gandalf emerged from his hiding place signaling it was safe to come out.

Legolas rolled off of Annalee and brought up a knee. The slight furrow in his brow was the only indication that he was worried he had hurt her. He offered her his hand to help her to her feet which she rejected.

Brusquely she stood and pushed past Legolas, leaving his outstretched hand open and hanging. She disappeared behind a large mass of rock where she fell against the steely cold of the stone. Anger and frustration welled within her. She hadn't meant to dismiss his polite gesture the way she had but without any explanation he had learned her weakness. She saw it in his face the moment he sat up. It was the same way Aragorn looked at her, admonishing her with that soft stare. Closing her eyes she allowed Gandalf's words to flow through her stream of conscious, "You're heart is ever strong." In that moment she desired nothing more for this to be true but it wasn't. How? How could it ever be strong when it presented her as weak to those she was meant to protect?

**So what'd you think? I'd really love to know! If you're not feeling this story or ever looking for a different setting check out a new story I'm working on, New in Town. Review! Follow! Like/Hate, whatever it is you choose I look forward to hearing from you!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello lovely viewers! I am back with another fun filled chapter and I'm really happy about it, maybe that's just because it's my birthday, I don't know! :D Thanks a ton for the reviews, favoritism, support, etc...it's quite wonderful! I certainly hope you enjoy this chapter so on with the story!**

Aragorn found Annalee doubled over, he could hear her raspy breathing though he stood yards away. He couldn't help but feel a tinge of remorse pulse through him as he approached his sick friend.

"Annalee we have to start moving," he stated gently.

The she-elf stood erect and let her wide eyes rest on the ranger, her soft gray settling on his blue. Aragorn held her stare for only a moment before turning his back on her and rejoining the others.

She stared, half-heartedly at the spot where the ranger had just stood. In his eyes she saw the pity and it made her blood boil. She would show him. Though she had been thinking ill of Gandalf's words Annalee decided then to make them reality. As she told Elrond, this illness would not claim her, not yet.

Dashing around the corner she slung her pack over her shoulders and making a point of getting ahead of Aragorn she joined Gandalf and Boromir at the front of the company.

The mountain that had seemed so far away during the afternoon now loomed overhead, blocking out the moon and stars. Not willing to risk the mountain at night the fellowship had made camp at the base of the peak, silently resting in the cover of nightfall.

In the thick darkness Annalee served sentry with Gimli who continually doze off, only to be woken by his head lolling down and colliding with the butt of his ax to which every time he'd jump up thinking there was danger.

After the fourth time Annalee bid him off to bed, of which he protested little too and within seconds was sprawled across his bed roll, snoring in sync with the hobbits.

After several hours had passed Annalee walked the perimeter of the makeshift campsite; searching in the distance for any sign of danger. It was eerily silent. This struck her as strange. Not the chirp of a bird or the whisper of the wind through the trees could be heard, something was amiss. Annalee could feel it.

Fingers guided themselves across her body until they were clasping the familiar steel of a hilt. She stopped and listened, her rapid heartbeat pounding in her thoughts distracted her from her surroundings.

She wanted it to stop, to go away and never return. How she wished that she could cover her ears and block it out but with every passing second the echo pulsed through her mind.

_Thump, thump, thump, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP! _It was maddening! _THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!_

Annalee fell to her knees and cradled her head in her hands, her fingers tangling into her hair. The earsplitting thumping thundered within her, the world was spinning. So when Legolas lunged from the darkness, tackling her, and rolling into the ravine, being caught off guard was the understatement of the year.

Not realizing who her attacker was Annalee's instincts told her to fight. Unable to access a sword or dagger, Annalee relied on her nails and fists. Legolas endured the scratches and punches she delivered without resistance. The way she fought, despite the tumbling down the hill, was indeed impressive. She was a worthy opponent indeed but he'd have to commend her for it later.

The fight came to a close as the two lithe bodies splashed into the freezing waters of the mountain's river. The mind numbing thumping and throbbing subsided upon impact with the water and she found herself unable to break the surface of the water. There was no way in Middle Earth that she'd spend her final moments of life drowning. Her weapons, pack, and clothing weighed her down but the only thing she could risk losing was her pack.

Thrashing around amidst the swirling current, her pack disappeared down the river. Clawing and kicking she fought hard until at last her head broke the surface. She inhaled sharply but wasn't able to get a full breath before the current pulled her down again.

Agile hands scooped under her arms and hauled her from the frigid depths of the murky river onto the rocky shoreline. Annalee was on all fours, coughing ceaselessly as she purged the ungodly amount of water from her lungs.

Legolas crouched beside her, not saying anything but refusing to let go. His sturdy hands rested on her shoulders, he didn't want her to feel alone.

Annalee sputtered and choked as she expelled the remaining water. Air. How sweet the air felt as it traveled through her. Her chest swelled with each deep breath she drew in until finally the familiar pattern returned and she could breathe easy.

For the first time she could feel the warmth of Legolas' pressing through the soaked layers of clothing. She inclined her head to see him and upon receiving her soft gray gaze he lifted his hands.

"What in the Valar's name was that?" she hissed.

"I could very well ask you the same question," he replied calmly.

His remark puzzled her but she didn't allow it to show. She pushed it aside, "Excuse me but I didn't attack you!"

"You're right," Legolas said standing, "but if it hadn't been for me you would have been."

Brow furrowed in confusion, Annalee wasn't sure what he meant. Knowing this Legolas sighed ever so softly, "Isengarders were lurking in the shadows, how long they'd been watching us I don't know. I didn't have to see or hear them, their stench was enough to rouse me and make their presence known. I alerted the others to make for the mountains and when I realized you were missing I sought you out." He looked away toward the moon, "I had feared they had found you."

Annalee noticed his knuckles were white from being clenched into fists. She figured it was due to her being away from her post or bringing him down the gorge. On second thought it could be any of the things that happened within the last fifteen minutes. He shouldn't have bothered with her, protecting Frodo was more important than making sure she was safe.

"We must make all haste then if we're to catch them by sunrise," Annalee said climbing to her feet, "If I know Aragorn he's found a way to the mountain pass that's untraceable to orcs. It'll be difficult to track but I'm sure I can find it."

The elf prince remained in place, motionless, his pale eyes fixed on the moon above. "We'll leave at first light."

Shooting a look that altogether did not scream kind, Annalee narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean leave at first light? We have to go now if we have any chance of tracking them."

Tearing his gaze away from the lunar marvel above, he finally looked at her. For a moment he just held her in his gaze, his blue eyes swirling. "You need to rest and recover your strength. You're weak and angry, that's not a combination that will aid our friends right now."

He was right. She was angry, she was fuming. Where was that orc party? Her fingers were itching for her sword, ready to knock foul heads off spoiled bodies.

A harsh wind blew down the shoreline freezing her soaked clothing to her body. Inside the gorge, two solid walls of earth stretched up on either side creating a wind tunnel. Annalee was shaken to the core from its icy chill. "Let's at least get out of here." What would seem like a suggestion came across a demand.

Legolas followed without any degree of protest. He was surprised at how light her tread was. He figured after being with Aragorn for as long as she had, she'd take on more human characteristics like his heavy gait but no. In the moonlight breaking through the canopy above them she was hardly a shadow, effortlessly bounding over obstacles and stepping ever so skillfully across the forest floor.

His ears pricked at a strange, raspy sound. It was new and unfamiliar, could it be a threat? Annalee hadn't picked up on it and was getting ahead of him. Whether or not she heard it, he didn't know but if she had it didn't faze her.

Focusing on the strange sound he had let the she elf get to far ahead. Picking up his pace he chased after her but only for a short distance. He slackened his step when he came upon her.

In a small glade, shrouded by trees and low hanging foliage; slumped over, chest rising and falling heavily was Annalee. Legolas studied her curiously. Elves weren't so easily exhausted. Her back was to him and in the silence of the night he heard the rough rasping sound from minutes earlier.

It was then he noticed it was Annalee. Something was amiss. "Annalee?" he questioned softly.

Annalee jumped, clearly startled by his voice. Immediately she straightened herself out, "There are tracks here, not orc so we can make camp here." Instantly she wanted to eat her words. There was no way Legolas would buy that. He may be a spoiled prince but he wasn't ignorant.

Legolas would admit it to anyone, he wasn't the best tracker. But he knew she was lying. Hardly flicking his eyes around the enclosed space he could tell there were no tracks. This place hasn't been touched in years. She wouldn't fool him so easily.

"You don't have to hide from me," he said taking Annalee by surprise. He knew something was amiss when they were hiding from the Crebain and now seeing her in this state he was able to come to a conclusion that something wasn't right.

Annalee laughed apprehensively, "What are you talking about?"

"You've taken ill." He stated.

_If only it were that simple._ "We should risk a fire; we'll both take ill if we sit around in these clothes any longer."

000000

Starlight illuminated the knoll. Thousands upon thousands wheeled overhead, casting their gently light down upon the two weary elves. The smallest of smoke plumes billowed up in spirals from the blaze up into the night sky. Annalee sat, huddled before the flames hugging her knees to her chest with her bare arms wrapped tightly around them.

Both she and Legolas had their extra layers of clothing spread before the fire so they'd dry before the trek up the mountain. They wouldn't dare wear anything the slightest bit wet up into the snowy peaks of Chradras.

Admiring the way the flames danced and curled within themselves Annalee had strayed from reality into a semi-conscious state, lost in thought. Legolas lay on his side, his back to her. He wasn't sleeping, elves rarely slept but he gave Annalee the space she so desired.

Strange she was. Why did she distance herself so? Legolas had always thought of himself as kind and approachable, so why did she recoil? Ah well, she probably took him for some foolish prince out looking for adventure and if she did, she wasn't entirely wrong.

All his life Legolas had sat on a throne, under careful watch of his father, and watched the many ages of life go by. He jumped at the chance when word reached Mirkwood that there was need to go to Rivendell. Of course never had he thought he'd end up on a journey like this, but it was turning out to not be so bad.

Annalee sighed heavily. She glanced at her cloak, drying by the fires edge, mocking her. How she longed for its warmth. It would at least offer some reprieve from the elements. Being in the shadow of the mountains made the newly turned autumn fell like the deepest part of winter.

Uneasily, she shifted her weight around trying to find a more suitable position. Pine needles and twigs splintered and cracked beneath her body. Useless! Pulling her arms in toward her chest, Annalee could only lean further into the ring of heat.

His fine ears listened to her. With each breath she took he could see the outline of her chest and back, rising and falling with each irregular beat. All without having to so much as sneak a look at her.

Legolas then propped up on his elbow and turned to face her. Through the flames all he could make out clearly without fully sitting up was her eyes. Oh, those eyes! How the fire played off the flecks of sapphire and reflected off the gray of her iris. After several moments the elf prince raised the rest of his body from its resting position.

"Is it painful?" he asked softly. When he said this he looked more so into the fire than at her.

Annalee exhaled slowly, her breath emanating icy fog. "Quite," she finally replied.

The next few minutes were shared in silence as the two, whether they knew it or not, arrived at a new level in their relationship.

"How did it happen?" Legolas queried, "If I may ask," he added politely.

Annalee flicked her eyes toward the prince to meet his looking back at hers and not the fire. Briefly, she summarized everything from the incident that started it all, to the surgery, to Amun Sul, up until now.

Legolas mulled over what she had told him. It certainly explained a lot. Why she distanced herself, why she was so protective of the hobbits, more so why she wouldn't let him in.

"Are you afraid?" he asked. In the storm clouds of her eyes he could see her fear; deep, and pushed back, but it was there all the same. "You have to be, otherwise you wouldn't estrange yourself the way you do."

"That's a bold assumption," Annalee said slowly.

Legolas inched toward her, "but I'm not wrong? You came on this journey to be a part of something bigger, something that has the potential to save Middle Earth but…you can't do it alone. You aren't."

Annalee could feel the heat radiating from his body; he was closing in, and not just physically. Legolas hid his content. He wanted to get under her skin. If this is how he'd get her to open up, then he'd continue.

Annalee laughed a little too loudly, "Obviously I'm not alone! I'm sitting here listening to you rant about how you think you know me better than I do. I don't push people away!"

"But you do!" countered Legolas, "You're terrified that if you let someone get close to you," as he said this the space between them narrowed, "then you'll form a bond and once that bond has formed how can you tell them this plague is ripping you apart? How can…"

Annalee's blood boiled inside her. Her fists were clenched so tight she was sure she break the skin with her nails. "Stop!" she yelled reaching her breaking point. "I know! I know this is happening to me and you know something? You're right!" she slapped her hands against her legs, "You're right. But it's not that I don't let people in, it's that I can't! I can't cause someone the pain of loss, of death. And that's what will happen! So you've figured it out. Congratulations Legolas! Now you know that I'm dying. I am alone, I'm-"

She was unable to finish her sentence because a set of soft, silky lips had graced hers in a moment of ignorant bliss and confusion. Legolas caressed her cheek, "You're not alone. I'm right here."

**Legolas, stirring things up! ;) I really hope ya'll liked it! Leave a review, or anything really and hopefully I'll be back soon with another chapter! **


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